


Encouragement

by frozenCinders



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, beta kimblee (zeta)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-25
Updated: 2018-04-25
Packaged: 2019-04-27 17:21:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14430456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frozenCinders/pseuds/frozenCinders
Summary: "Tell me, Van Hohenheim. What is your passion?""I don't have one."He answers the question much too easily, too casually, giving Kimblee no choice but to believe him. This man truly has no fire, no determination in his eyes.Kimblee's life goalisto inspire such feelings in people, even if he has to willingly become the antagonist someone needs in order to find themselves.





	Encouragement

**Author's Note:**

> there are a few things i need to explain before anyone should read this. firstly, [look at this picture of the original concept art for kimblee.](https://78.media.tumblr.com/c8a83f2d69c04b2b35cd30b0d6636bf3/tumblr_omaw4behop1rtxcjno4_1280.jpg)
> 
> on a discord server, we tossed around the idea of "middle kimblee" (in between 03 and manga/brotherhood) and i ended up coming up with way too much not to do anything with. i then tried to think of a ship neither version of kimblee had, and immediately thought of hohenheim.
> 
> we tried to figure out what his name would be to differentiate him (zolf kimbley vs solf kimblee for 03 and bh for example) and i came up with zeta, a combination of zolf and beta. not very creative but it serves its purpose, i think.
> 
> zeta isn't _quite_ as crass and in your face as zolf, isn't quite as subtle and falsely gentlemanly as solf. rather than admiring strong convictions from afar, zeta is the type to create them in the first place, make someone realize what it is they can't afford to lose and watch them fight to protect it. a very "find your resolve! seize the moment!" personality, but antagonistic. he also wears gray suits and awful ties.
> 
> with all that said and done, you can read now.

It's been four days of tagging along with this boring old man, and Kimblee has no idea why he thinks this will pay off. He can't help but _feel_  something emanating from Hohenheim; some sort of power. Maybe he has a Philosopher's Stone in his pocket. Maybe Kimblee will lift it from him and swallow it one of these nights.

But currently, he's trying his best to think of some sort of motivator for Hohenheim, to draw passion out of him. He's been intermittently asking him questions, conducting little mini interviews in order to gather information. The most interesting tidbits so far are that he's the father of the Fullmetal Alchemist, and he also happens to inexplicably be immortal. Did he swallow a Philosopher's Stone too or something?

"Van!" he calls, ready to ask a new question. He struck upon some inspiration earlier and Hohenheim had disappeared for a bit. Now Kimblee approaches him in the living room of the abandoned house they've shacked up in for the moment.

"Ah... I would prefer if you use my last name. Wouldn't it be odd for me to call you Zeta?"

"Fair enough. I have another question for you and I feel good about this one."

"Go ahead," Hohenheim says, sitting on the couch and offering the seat next to him. Kimblee remains standing, just has a feeling about it.

"What is your biggest fear?" he asks.

Hohenheim stares at him, almost contemplative, but somehow Kimblee knows he already has an answer ready for him. Maybe he's deciding whether or not to tell him.

"I have this... fear, yes. I know it's irrational. But I'm terrified that, somehow, if I get too close to my children, my curse will be passed on and they'll be forced to live like me; inhuman."

"Your biggest fear is them becoming immortal?"

Hohenheim gives him a solemn, resigned look. It's an expression that suits him, but Kimblee isn't interested in bringing out something that's always been visible.

"Not them dying?"

Realization dawns on Hohenheim's face and he looks like Kimblee just broke some terrible news to him. Like his sons had died in the war and Kimblee decided to be the one to notify the next of kin.

"No, that... that would be horrendous. I don't want anything to happen to them."

"But you do want them to grow old or get injured and die someday? That is, if them becoming immortal is your worst nightmare," Kimblee reasons. Hohenheim clearly does not like it.

"They deserve to live as normal humans, like everyone else. As much as it would break my heart for anything to happen to them, as I've seen time and time again with everyone else I've ever cared about, this isn't about me."

"Indeed, death is a part of life. What's the point to being alive if you're not willing to enjoy the transient things?"

Hohenheim seems conflicted to hear that, and Kimblee can tell he's thinking about how he ran away.

"If someone were to kill your boys today, would it be worth your fear being alleviated?" Kimblee asks, and Hohenheim's eyes widen as he senses the hidden threat; not acknowledging a chance at it being hypothetical. He can tell there's something dangerous in Kimblee after all, then. He expects the response of a timid old man but hopes for much better.

"If you lay a hand on my children, you'll wish you were cursed like me," Hohenheim threatens. His expression has hardened, his eyes fierce for _once_ , and Kimblee shudders. Hohenheim might misinterpret that as fear, were his grin not so wide.

"Yes," he hisses, feeling himself getting overexcited already, "there's that resolve you so desperately need; that determination that can ground you to this Earth like nothing else! Take your weakness and turn it into your greatest strength!"

"Is this... your idea of a pep talk?"

Hohenheim tilts his head, expression a little softer, closer to the enigmatic, aloof persona he normally shows. No, that's no good. Kimblee lives for that look, that resolve, that desperate stubbornness that comes with the refusal to lose something important and the underlying fear from knowing they can't _afford_  to lose it.

"I think you could become truly amazing if you just had... the _motivation_. I think I'll take a trip to meet your sons."

Kimblee barely manages to get the sentence out before he's slammed against the wall with an arm across his throat and that _look_ is back in Hohenheim's eyes.

"Yesss, that's so fucking good! Rip me to shreds at the very idea of having something so important taken from you!" he encourages with glee, just a little raspy from the pressure on his airways. Hohenheim stares him down and perhaps he's beginning to piece together exactly what Kimblee's motivation for tagging along with him in the first place was.

"Do you want something from me?" he asks, trying to deescalate the polite way. "What can I do to get you to stop thinking about hurting them?"

"Here's a suggestion: hurt me before I can hurt them," Kimblee tells him, pressing up against the arm threatening to choke him.

"Ah," Hohenheim says. His face is back to normal. "That's what this is about. These are just words you're saying after all."

"What makes you so sure?"

"Because you're hard." Ah, he noticed. "Additionally, if you really wanted to hurt me, you wouldn't give me such ample warning."

Hohenheim releases Kimblee from the wall.

"Very impressive. Now please go back to suffocating me, if you will."

Hohenheim looks at him, the determination fading fast from his eyes, and he goes back to the person he was. The same trick might not work twice, so now Kimblee is at an impasse. Why did he have to notice he's hard?

"You have an urge that needs satisfying," Hohenheim says suddenly. Kimblee could say many things here but decides to keep quiet and let him continue.

"I'm not normally one to indulge, but I suppose I am a widow. Her soul will forgive me."

"Oh, so you'll indulge me?" Kimblee asks, amusedly mimicking his wording.

"What do you want me to do, exactly?"

"Beat me."

"I, um... I don't know that I can do that."

"Oh, don't play coy. Beat me or I really will pay your sons a visit. Unless I can't walk after this, they could get seriously hurt." His threats are getting less and less subtle and Hohenheim doesn't seem to know what to think of them.

"I hear one's an amputee already. It would be a shame if he were to lose his remaini-"

Hohenheim slaps him across the face, _hard_. Kimblee allows the impact to spin him around and he's well aware of how manic his grin is when he's facing Hohenheim again.

"Not your palm," he says, quickly yanking his askew glasses off and baring his cheek to him, "backhand me."

Hohenheim doesn't oblige, opting instead to grab Kimblee by the hair- not even going for the ponytail, huh? He steps closer and presses Kimblee against the wall again, slowly this time.

"We both know this can be resolved in a much less violent manner," Hohenheim says. Why does he keep losing his fire so quickly? Kimblee has no idea how to fan this flame and it's a first for him.

He takes Kimblee's wrists, holds them above his head, and, amazingly, transmutes part of the wall to hold them in place without using a transmutation circle or even clapping. Kimblee immediately feels vindicated, having sensed all along that there was something powerful inside this man. The immortality couldn't possibly be such a passive curse, after all. He truly isn't human, is he?

"Use that alchemy of yours-"

Hohenheim doesn't even have to move his hands to move the wall over his mouth; and, in fact, Kimblee's not sure the wall is getting stretched thin. How many rules is he capable of bending, exactly?

"If you haven't calmed down by the end of this, we're going to have a problem. Behave," Hohenheim warns, not bothering to undress him at all as he slides a hand down. Kimblee would tilt his head back, offer his throat, but his head is pinned to the wall along with his hands. Instead, he offers an experimental sigh, sees how much of his voice he can slip through. It's difficult and somewhat muffled with his mouth so completely covered, but Hohenheim can certainly hear him.

About two seconds into Hohenheim rubbing at Kimblee through his pants, he's already wishing he could speak. He settles for pushing up into Hohenheim's hand and moaning wantonly.

"You really shouldn't play with forces you can't control," Hohenheim scolds him.

_Oh, but that's the fun of it!_

"You would be dead by now if they were in the vicinity. It's only because I know I can stop you that you're still alive."

_Yes, keep talking like that._

Hohenheim finally actually reaches into Kimblee's pants and his knees threaten to buckle. Knowing how powerful, how _dangerous_  he is now only makes it feel a hell of a lot better than usual.

_Fuck me, hurt me, kill me, fuck..._

He wishes he could speak if only to beg for more and more and _more_.

_Faster, faster..._

His muffled, humming moans get louder much quicker than usual. Hohenheim isn't even that impressive with his hand (would probably be much more impressive with his cock) but just the fact that it's _him_  and he's _so fucking strong..._

He lets his knees buckle this time as he comes, sees what it's like to let Hohenheim's transmutations be the only things holding him up. It's actually good enough for Kimblee to see stars and he momentarily mistakes it for Hohenheim deciding to blindfold him- sort of wishes he would have. The fluid stains his clothes, blending well enough with the gray to just look like suspicious wet spots on his vest.

The wall returns to normal without warning and Kimblee falls less than gracefully.

"Are you done with your threats now?" Hohenheim asks. He's back to looking aloof, neutral, dispassionate.

"Only if you promise to fuck me every once in a while," Kimblee says.

He could have easily just signed his own death warrant with that comment, but Kimblee does so love to live dangerously and he dreams of a brutal death to come.

But Hohenheim just sighs, leans more towards the timid old man aspect of his personality. He looks at the mess on his hand and then around themselves, as if he's searching for something to give him an answer.

"I suppose I could use company on my trip. It's convenient that I don't love you, I won't be so scared of losing you."

He says it so callously, like it's something anyone could say. Kimblee fucking loves it.


End file.
